Album Review: Ragni by Natalino Balasso – A Hidden Italian Gem from 1985
Alright, let’s talk about Ragni, the debut album by Natalino Balasso, an artist who kinda flew under the radar but left behind something special. Released in 1985 on Mantra Records, this Italian pop-rock masterpiece blends acoustic vibes with storytelling lyrics that feel like a warm hug and a punch to the gut at the same time. With styles ranging from Pop Rock to Chanson, it’s got layers—like your favorite lasagna, but for your ears.
The whole thing is packed with emotion, melody, and just enough grit to keep it real. Produced by Valerio Cirelli (who clearly knew what he was doing), the record features tight arrangements by Franco Chiaravalle and killer performances from musicians like Mino Fabiani on bass and Gilberto Zilioli shredding guitar. But honestly? It’s Balasso himself—writing both music and lyrics—that makes this album stand out. He’s pouring his heart into every track, and you can tell.
Now, I wanna zoom in on two tracks because… well, they stuck with me. First up is “Ragni.” Yep, the title track. From the moment Gigi Tonet hits those keys, you’re hooked. The song has this haunting vibe, like walking through foggy streets late at night while thinking about life choices. Balasso sings about struggles, resilience, and how we all get tangled in our own webs sometimes. You don’t need to speak perfect Italian to feel the weight of his words—it’s universal stuff. And Andy Surdi’s percussion? Subtle but sharp, giving the tune a heartbeat that stays with you long after it ends.
Then there’s “Paesi Miei.” Oh man, this one feels like home. It’s nostalgic without being cheesy, painting vivid pictures of small towns, dusty roads, and simpler times. Balasso’s voice cracks ever so slightly here and there, which somehow makes it even more beautiful. There’s no grand explosion or flashy solo; it’s just raw and honest. When Gilberto Zilioli’s guitar kicks in halfway through, it’s like someone opening a window to let fresh air in. Simple yet powerful.
What strikes me most about Ragni is its balance. It’s not trying too hard to impress anyone—it’s confident in its imperfections. Tracks like “Otto Anni” and “La Volpe Vecchia” bring variety, mixing upbeat energy with reflective moments. Even the quieter songs like “Nebbia” leave a mark, thanks to Paolo Bocchi’s clean production work.
But here’s the kicker: listening to this album feels like finding an old photograph in your grandparents’ attic. It’s faded around the edges, maybe a little forgotten, but full of stories waiting to be rediscovered. Sure, it came out in the ‘80s, but these themes still hit close to home today. We’re all spinning our webs, chasing dreams, or looking back at where we came from.
And honestly? That’s kinda comforting. So grab a coffee, turn down the lights, and give Ragni a spin. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find yourself humming “Paesi Miei” tomorrow morning—or realizing spiders aren’t so scary after all.
